


Just Like Art

by DontCallMeStraightOrCis



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 17:52:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17370623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DontCallMeStraightOrCis/pseuds/DontCallMeStraightOrCis
Summary: Oliver muses on the strange art that is Percy Weasley.





	Just Like Art

There was an odd art to the existence of Percy Ignatius Weasley.

Long thin fingers played the part of paintbrushes, painting red onto people's cheeks. Ginger curls played the part of golden thread, weaved into a curious little tapestry. Low, rumbling laughs played the part of music, a rare, breathtaking symphony. Pale smooth skin played the part of marble, his body a sculpture in a museum of ancient oddities.

It was a strange thing to say, some might think, that Percy Weasley was art. He could be loud, he could be too proud. He could snort while he laughed, cuss up a storm as he got a paper cut yet again. He wasn't the first person that would come to mind if one was asked to pick a Percy that seemed to be living art.

To Oliver however, it seemed so obvious. 

Art wasn't always meant to be pretty and perfect. Sometimes it was meant to be strange, confusing, make you think, and Percy made people think. He made them whisper behind teacups, sneak looks when he looked away, ask around in faux casual tones. Art was supposed to make you ask questions, and he did that well.

He made people question if he was really a Gryffindor, really a Weasley, really this, really that. He even made Oliver ask questions. When they first met, how could anyone like this kid? When they were older, is this what it's like to be in love?

And that was the question Percy made Oliver ask most, as he admired Percy Weasley, 1976; was this love.

Oliver had never been one for art. It could be interesting, sure, but it had never held his attention for long like it had with his parents.

But as he lay there beside this strange masterpiece, as he counted the light brown paint speckles that covered his face and hands and arms and legs, Oliver suddenly found himself very much interested in art. 

He wondered, if he asked, if Percy would take him to the art museum tomorrow


End file.
